Anyone who isn't from lowland and urban England can start sniggering now. I do not cope well with snow. I really do not cope well with snow. When I got back in after dropping bear off at his delayed registration (10am due to snow) I could have cried.
We have nearly half an inch.
It's that wet, soggy stuff that is half melted and I skidded and slid all the way to bear's school, clinging desperately to fences and posts all the way. I nearly fell a few times, which I am morbidly and irrationally afraid of. I've dislocated both shoulders and a toe and I've sprained both ankles and a wrist. The actual pain of a dislocation isn't fun but the absolute terror I felt as I joked to bear about how much of an adventure we had was entirely out of proportion.
Bear did not help. I asked him to get his gloves on and he calmly informed me he didn't have any. What?! What happened to your grey ones? Bear looked blank. I went through all his jackets and hoodies and eventually found them. 'This is what the glove drawer is for.' I told him. 'So we can always find our gloves.' Bear was uninterested but put the dratted things on.
To be honest, bear is still not happy about the standard of treats we currently have in. He described them as 'inadequate'. As he has eaten them all before and they are generous compared to the sweets I had growing up I am unsympathetic and not rushing to get others in. He will survive. If he is lucky I will put some different ones on the order for Saturday - but I'm not getting giddy. Bear is doing just fine.
Anyway, I struggled back, put some grit down and bunged some overpriced diced lamb in the slow cooker. It's a bit of a treat for DH but I whimper at the price of lamb even though I want to treat him. I'm on my second run of the dishwasher and second run of the washing machine. Here are the photos of the weather that caused me so much angst - try not to laugh! It really is grimly slippy.
By the way, in the top photo you can see various buckets and boxes filled with stones. Bear continues rock hunting.